


Lavender's Blue

by KinFletcher



Series: As I See You [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Innocent Intimacy, Nightmares, Sleeping Together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-06-07 16:07:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6812608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KinFletcher/pseuds/KinFletcher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wanda is startled when Vision catches her in the kitchen after she has nightmares.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lavender's Blue

**Author's Note:**

> I was blown away by all of the kudos and kind comments on my other Scarlet Vision fic, so I decided to make another. It's sort of a sequel to that one, which you can read here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/6799438  
> Thank you so much for all of your support!

            Over the next few days, Wanda found herself smiling more and more. More, she realized, than she had in months. She and Vision sat in her room every day, eating and discussing human behavior, watching films, listening to music… She started to feel that this prison wasn’t so terrible when she had someone to be with. And he was starting to become used to little touches and kisses, saying “I love you,” and how to show when he was enjoying himself.

            She began trying to venture out of her room every so often, even if the staff at the compound avoided her and wouldn’t meet her eyes. She sat in front of the walls of windows to watch the sunset. She got up in the middle of the night to make food or tea and calm down from her nightmares. Those nights were the only times she used her powers. When nobody was around to see, it was easy to pull ingredients from the cabinets and stir pots with just her mind.

            One particular night, she was in the middle of shuffling through the pantry for ginger when she heard a familiar voice behind her.

            “You’re up late again,” said Vision. Wanda jumped, sending a spice rack crashing to the ground. A bottle of garlic powder burst open and spilled on the floor.

            “Viz!” she said loudly, putting a hand over her pounding heart, then flushing as she realized what she was wearing. She had gotten so accustomed to the dark silence of the compound at night that she had come out of her room wearing a camisole instead of her usual jackets. She took a deep breath and returned the contents of the garlic container with a little wave of her hand and shoved the spice rack back in place.

            “I startled you,” said Vision, his hands folded behind his back. Wanda took two more calming breaths, nodding.

            “Please continue,” he said, gesturing towards the spice rack. Wanda kept nodding, turning away and pretending to search for the ginger bottle, fully aware that her camisole bared her back all the way down her shoulder blades. Then again, did Vision have a man’s gaze in the first place? Perhaps he wouldn’t even think anything of it.

            Finally she found the ginger and turned back to him. He was examining a box of Avengers-themed macaroni and cheese.

            “You know, I’m not on here,” he said, setting the box back down and holding the pantry door open for her.

            “Well, neither am I,” she returned, shuffling back out to the kitchen. The water she had put on to boil wasn’t even simmering. She set down the ginger and turned back to Vision, who was eyeing her curiously.

            “You’re flustered,” he commented.

            “You just scared me,” she said, pulling on her hair. “With everyone else gone, it’s usually empty here after dark.”

            “Ah.” He looked over her shoulder again, and then his eyes flicked back to her face. “Not to persist, but you _are_ blushing. May I inquire as to why?”

            Wanda’s cheeks got even hotter. She put her hands up in defeat. “You notice how people wear clothes all the time?”

            Vision nodded, completely missing the sarcasm in her voice.

            “That’s to… cover themselves… and right now I’m… not wearing so much as I’m used to.” She tugged on the cloth of her camisole.

            Vision tilted his head slightly, looking at her. “You look very pleasant,” he said. “Why would that embarrass you?”

            Wanda sighed, taking his hand. “Most of the time, here, less clothing means more sexual.”

            Vision opened his mouth and let out a little sound of understanding. “You don’t wish to appear sexual to me, and so you are embarrassed.”

            Wanda dropped her head on his shoulder and giggled. “Not quite it, but that’s closer.”

            Vision set his hand on her back in a gesture that was natural to him now. He kissed the top of her head and she smiled, closing her eyes.

            “Did you have a nightmare?” he asked.

            Wanda nodded. “It is nothing new.”

            When she drew back, Vision brought her hand to his lips and kissed it, watching her with those wild and peaceful blue eyes. Looking at them soothed her now.

            The water was boiling.

            Not trusting herself to telekinetically pour hot water while she was jittery, Wanda turned away to do it with her hands. As clouds of steam billowed up from the tea, she watched the two bags of vanilla bob to the surface. She took a little ginger and honey and began to stir it in, and then jumped again when she felt a touch on her shoulder.

            “You have to warn me!” she cried, steadying the tea mug she had almost dropped.

            “My apologies, Wanda,” said Vision quietly, taking his hand away. “I was under the impression that spontaneity is appealing in romantic gestures.”

            “Well, yes, just… not startling spontaneity,” said Wanda breathlessly. She left her hands on the counter, watching the steam rising from the tea and listening to her heartbeat grow faster as Vision pushed her hair over her shoulders. He ran his thumbs along the straps of her camisole.

            “May I?” he asked. Not entirely sure what he meant, Wanda shrugged. He placed his hands on her shoulders and leaned down, kissing the nape of her neck. It was unnecessarily long but so genuine that Wanda felt like her ribs were unravelling. He ran his hands down her arms and took her hands, crossing them over her stomach as though making her give herself a hug as he held her.

            “Is this odd?” he asked. His voice so close to her ear made a little shiver of pleasure run down her spine.

            “No,” she said, leaning her head against his. “I think you’re starting to get the hang of this.”

            After a while she turned to kiss his cheek, breaking the embrace, before picking up the mug.

            “I should go back to sleep,” she said.

            “Yes,” said Vision, but he tilted his head and gazed into the distance for a moment. When he looked at her again, he asked, “If you do go back to sleep, will you have nightmares again?”

            Wanda shrugged, sipping at her tea. “Probably.”

            “Have you always had nightmares? It seems terribly unusual to experience them so often.”

            Wanda looked into her tea. “It’s mostly been since we went to HYDRA and after… after Pietro died. Before that he used to… sing to me. To help.” She chuckled a little. “It was stupid. He couldn’t sing on key, but it still helped me fall asleep. And when I’d wake up from a nightmare, he’d brush my hair and sing more. It was like a… reminder, like that I was with him and not in my dreams.”

            She told herself not to cry while she was holding a mug of hot tea.

            “Wanda,” said Vision, bringing her back to reality. “Would it help if I sang to you and brushed your hair?”

            Wanda paused. She couldn’t even imagine Vision singing. But the thought of someone brushing her hair and sleeping close to her again… It made her ache, but the void where Pietro had been in her soul seemed to lean into the idea, and she wondered if it might sooth the sharp edges of the wound. She looked at Vision’s earnest expression. He obviously had no idea what implications sleeping in the same bed with someone generally held. He was so different. He just wanted to sing to her and brush her hair. He just wanted to help her feel better.

            “We can experiment,” she said.

 

            They sat on her bed as she finished drinking the tea.

            “Do you usually sleep?” she asked him.

            “I can if I wish to,” he said, looking at the books on her shelves, “but I rarely do.”

            Wanda set the mug on her bedside table. “You’ll sleep now, though?”

            “When lying on a bed, isn’t that the natural thing to do?”

            Wanda shrugged, lifting up her covers and crawling underneath them. Vision did the same. He laid stiffly on his back with his hands folded over his stomach. It made Wanda smile. She curled up facing towards him, closing her eyes.

            “What did your brother sing to you?”

            “Sokovian folk songs,” she said. “Sometimes he would make up the words when he forgot them.”

            “Ah… I don’t know any Sokovian folk songs,” said Vision.

            “I’m glad you don’t,” said Wanda. “They would probably make me cry.”

            Vision found her hand under the covers and held it.

            “I believe I know a few songs from the British Isles,” he suggested. “I’ve studied the area extensively since everyone insists that my accent makes me sound like I was raised there.”

            Wanda nodded, her eyes heavy. Vision cleared his throat and began to sing a simple tune she’d never heard before.

            _Lavender's blue, dilly, dilly, lavender's green_

_When I am king, dilly, dilly, You shall be queen_

_Who told you so, dilly, dilly, who told you so?_

_'Twas my own heart, dilly, dilly, that told me so._

            It was so odd to hear him sing, but unlike many other human things, singing seemed to come naturally to Vision. His voice was clear and quiet, like a bell, and perfectly in tune. She imagined that he could alter his vocal chords to produce just the right pitch. It was so different, but once Wanda became used to it, she pressed her face into his shoulder and fell asleep by the third verse of the song.

            _Lavender's green, dilly, dilly, Lavender's blue_

_if you love me, dilly, dilly, I will love you._

_Let the birds sing, dilly, dilly, And the lambs play_

_We shall be safe, dilly, dilly, out of harm's way._

 

            And when she woke early in the morning with her cheeks flushed and tears in her eyes, she felt a brush running through her hair and the same quiet voice singing. For a while it made her cry a little more because the voice wasn’t Pietro’s, but eventually she calmed, rubbing her tears away. The brush against her scalp brought her down to earth in time to hear Vision singing:

            _Like dew on gowans lying,_

_Is the fall of her fairy feet,_

_And like winds, in simmer sighing,_

_Her voice is low and sweet._

_Her voice is low and sweet,_

_And she's all the world to me--_

_And for bonnie Annie Laurie_

_I'd lay me down and die._


End file.
